


Stay Up With Me?

by Banna_Banana



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Capes, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2018-08-10 09:56:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7840270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banna_Banana/pseuds/Banna_Banana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim Drake and Jason Todd are the only two kids who show up to Gotham Academy with bags under their eyes everyday; Tim is kept up by his insomnia whilst Jason is plagued by nightmares. In each other, the two just might find the secret to a good night's sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jason knows he doesn’t fit in; it doesn’t take a certified genius to see that. He stands in the front of the classroom, all eyes on him, in his pressed uniform and shiny shoes (courtesy of Alfred) that he stands uncomfortably in, with bags under his eyes, and a streak of white in his hair (that would be strictly against school guidelines if it were unnatural).

The teacher introduced him to the whole class, something that never would’ve happened back in public school, but nobody seems to think anything of it. They _do_ think something of him however; Jason can tell. They know he’s not one of them. Well fuck them; he doesn’t _want_ to be one of them.

“Okay, Mr. Todd, you can sit… oh! You can sit near Mr. Harper. Mr. Harper, please raise your hand,” the teacher says. Leave it to a rich school to only care about last names. A ginger in the back of the room with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows raises an arm lazily. This kid doesn’t belong here either. Jason can feel it.

Jason makes his way to the back of the room, pushing his white streak back into place with the rest of his black hair. The ginger smiles at him, his teeth not as crooked as Jason’s but not perfect either.

The teacher tells them to take out the assigned reading, and Jason pulls out his new edition of _The Great Gatsby_ , courtesy of Bruce. He read all the way up to where the class is at on his own worn copy, so when he opens up to chapter four, the spine cracks loudly in the quiet room. Everyone looks at Jason in shock, except for the ginger next to him who just looks amused. They continue to stare at Jason’s book for another beat before they all shift their eyes back to their own quickly.

Today’s a full-class reading day, and they’re supposed to at least be halfway through chapter five by the end of class, but Jason’s not sure he can do that within the seventy-five-minute period. Despite his love for it, he’s always been a slow reader, but he does observe the information really well.

He’s on the top of the last page of chapter four when the bell rings. It’s not the shrill sound of Gotham high but something that sounds like a smooth transition. He hates it. Jason pushes himself up and out of his chair, ready to walk out the door until Harper stops him.

“Jason, right? I’m Roy. Do you need help finding your next class?” Jason never pinned this kid as the type to offer his services, but, whatever, he doesn’t need them. He spent all of last night memorizing his schedule and the map of the school so that he can find the shortest routes to all of his classes without asking for help.

“I’m good,” Jason says, but apparently this Roy kid isn’t shut down so easily.

“Okay, well, what lunch do you have?”

“C.”

“Cool! That’s the same lunch I have; we can sit together.” Jason’s willing to bet his left hand that Roy doesn’t sit with anyone else. This kid reminds him of Dick in a lot of ways, the few times he came over that is.

“Yeah sure, see you then.” Okay, as annoyingly social as Roy is, Jason feels relaxed around this kid, and he doesn’t think he’s going to make any other friends while he’s here. As it turns out, Roy’s schedule is almost identical to Jason’s.

 

“You have to take business economics this year? That sucks,” Roy says as he bites into the sandwich he brought from home. Jason didn’t think that Roy would speak with food in his mouth; hell, after all of Alfred’s nagging, he’s almost kicked the bad habit himself.

“They didn’t have it at Gotham High, and it’s a graduation requirement here,” he says after a couple of seconds of chewing the wrap Alfred had made him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking boring if you don’t plan on being a business guy, but the worst part is you’ll have to take it with the sophomores.” Okay, Jason’s finally starting to see how this is a disgusting habit; Roy really needs to learn how to not talk with his mouth full.

“Gee, thanks Roy; I don’t know how I could’ve looked forward to that class any more than I already did.”

“I live to serve, Jason.”

Jason guesses that’s how they get along like a house on fire; they’re both sarcastic assholes.

 

So Jason understands the logic of this; as a business person, you have to get used to introducing yourself to a room full of judging strangers, but he still hates it. He feels like he’s on the chopping block.

“I’m Jason…Todd, and I transferred from Gotham High,” he says, looking at the teacher in a way he hopes conveys that he’s done. If the teacher’s unsatisfied look is anything to go by, he understood the look.

“Alright Mr. Todd, you can sit…right there in the front row.” There’s a bunch of empty seats throughout the whole room and an entire row in the back, but the teacher wants to keep an eye on Jason. Asshole. But he nods anyway because Bruce doesn’t need a call about Jason being disobedient.

 

* * *

 

The kid at the front of the classroom doesn’t belong here, Tim can tell. The easiest place to start with is the right streak in his hair, then the bags under his eyes, then the crooked, yellowish teeth that are shown when he opens his mouth to talk, and lastly, the way he introduces himself. He pauses before he says his last name, when everyone would introduce themselves like James Bond if they could get away with it. Tim, to say the least, is intrigued.

 

Okay, as much as Tim would like to, he can’t blame his lack of sleep on the new kid, Jason. He lies in bed awake, staring at his ceiling and trying to ignore the fact that it’s 2 a.m. and he hasn’t gotten even a second of sleep. There’s nothing to keep him up, but there’s also nothing to lull him to sleep. Tim just hopes he can exhaust his mind to the point where it shuts down, and his best bet is to focus on Jason Todd.

 

* * *

 

Jason bolts upright in his new, soft, huge bed that he’s not quite used to yet, breathing heavily. Well, if he’s being honest, he’s hyperventilating. He can’t remember his nightmare, but he can remember the feeling. The feeling of helplessness, of pain, and the fear that he was going to die. He knows where they all stem from, and they have all of the same elements, just different forms of torture, but the worst thing they have in common is the laughter. The laughter is what keeps Jason up for another hour, until his alarm clock shows a bright red 3:00 a.m.


	2. Chapter 2

The bags under Jason’s eyes could rival Santa’s at this point, and he’s honestly just three shades away from asking Alfred to pick him up some makeup.

“Ya know, I thought I’ve been feeling tired ‘cause I’ve been losing sleep, but it turns out I’m just _tired of your shit_ ,” Jason says, and he has to admit that he made himself laugh a bit. Except no one else seems to find it funny. Sure, he had it pegged since day one, but to be only a week in and people already shunning him isn’t something that Jason expected. The worst part is, these kids act like they’re still in elementary school; they ignore Jason when he asks a question, ‘accidentally’ forget to pass him supplies so he has to ask the teacher. It’s bullshit; Jason Todd is a man of confrontation.

Take right this second for example, they had been talking about family trees, and someone said they felt bad for Jason. When he refused to play along, the kid continued, “it must be hard to know your lineage when crack dens don’t keep records”.

Of course that fucker knew, of course everyone knew. Bruce had tried to keep Jason’s less than stellar past out of the news, but after the last _Flying Grayson_ , they must’ve figured that Bruce Wayne was going to keep up the show. They sure as hell weren’t wrong.

It had taken one day, just one day, for the children of Gotham Academy to learn about the Todd family. It only took them one day to learn about Willis Todd’s criminal history and Catherine Todd’s drug one. At least none of them knew why Jason had missed school for the month.

“I know you’ve been adopted by one of the richest and most powerful men in Gotham City, but that doesn’t mean you’re actually a Wayne. You’re still nothing but trash.” The kid keeps going and going, but Jason’s not going to rise to the bait. Not this time. If this were Gotham High, he would’ve broken the kid’s arm, but this is Gotham Academy and the kids here have lawyers that get paid more than his life is worth.

To make matters even worse, there are eyes on Jason; there are a bunch of kids watching, waiting to see if he’ll bite or just bark like a dog on a very short leash. He’s felt eyes on him the whole week, but now there are many, many sets, and he just can’t handle it. This is the worst part of being adopted by Bruce Wayne: being watched and pretending to be someone he’s not. It’s hell.

“Get out of my way; class is about to start,” Jason says, plain and simple, as he shoulders past.

“Pussy,” the kid spats at him when Jason’s back is to him.

* * *

 

Tim has been watching Jason Todd for a little under a school week now, and he has yet to lose interest. He knew the kids at GA didn’t like newcomers, but Tim never actually knew how much. Even his business economics class, filled with underclassmen who never dare to disturb the pecking order, poke fun at Jason’s expense when he doesn’t get certain things and make snide comments under their breath.

Today Jason ignored a kid who was messing with him, and Tim could visibly see him struggling to not fight back. The way his shoulders stiffened and went back, his hands clenched at his sides, his chin up and unwavering, and the way he sucked on his teeth, it all would make the perfect picture.

There are a thousand things Tim could think to photograph Jason doing: sitting in class, reading their textbook, walking to his car at the end of the day. It’s weird, Tim knows, but he hasn’t met that many people who don’t come from his world. There’s Roy Harper, the kid adopted by Oliver Queen who is on the school’s archery team, and then there’s two kids he hit it off with by chance at a gala: Connor Kent and Bart Allen, and none of them carries themselves like Jason does. Roy Harper carries himself like maybe he doesn’t belong, but he’s there and everyone who has a problem can go to hell. Connor Kent walks like he’s never had a care in world. Bart Allen runs like life is a game. Jason Todd walks, tall and long-legged, like he has seen so much that bothers him, and it bothers him that it bothers him. Jason Todd seems like the type of guy you could ask a thousand questions and still know nothing about him.

Watching him everyday, Tim’s index fingers itches to push down and take a picture, but he knows that Bart would tell him he should at least talk to Jason first. It’s annoying, how fixated Tim gets, but it’s even more annoying that he can’t act on it. Tim can’t just go up and talk to Jason, tell him the forecast, or ask to be partners. If Tim were to do that, he has no doubt that Jason would lump him in with the others who are trying to get in the good graces of the new Wayne kid.

That afternoon as he heads to wear his own chauffer is parked, Tim sees Roy with his arm slung around Jason’s shoulders and thinks that it’d make a good picture, but he can’t help but to think that it’d look even better if it were him and Jason.

That night, when Tim knows he should be asleep, he goes on his phone and types into the search bar ‘how to know if you have a crush on someone’.

* * *

 

That evening at dinner, Bruce asks how school is going, and Jason lies through his teeth as he says, “as good as it can, considering it’s high school”.

That night, as Jason lies in bed staring at the illuminated numbers on his clock, he thinks about the kid in his business economics class. The kid is scrawny and short, coming up to Jason’s shoulder, and whenever he thinks Jason isn’t looking, he stares. It pisses him the fuck off.       


	3. Chapter 3

This morning, after a five-minute conversation with his father about intentions and then photography and how it’s getting him nowhere in life, Tim is allowed to be dropped off at school a half hour earlier than typical. The point of this excursion is to photograph the flagpole outside of Gotham Academy as the sun rises, but five minutes after getting dropped off at school, Tim is met with something ever better to photograph.

Jason walks up the pavement, backpack slung over one shoulder and no car insight, and, as though he were in a cartoon, Tim hides behind the flagpole. After a second of watching, it’s apparent that Jason has his sights fixed on the ground, so Tim risks his livelihood and takes a picture. It’s a quick shot that comes out slightly blurry, but you can still see Jason, broad shoulders hunched forward and white streak front and center.

As Jason walks past the flagpole, he barely notices Tim; the only clue that Tim gets that he’s noticed is the slow rise of Jason’s head as his eyes go from Tim’s polished shoes to his press khaki’s to his stiff blazer to his black hair styled on top of his head. They don’t make eye contact, but Tim doesn’t really know which one of them is to blame.

Jason’s stare leaves an odd feeling in Tim’s gut as he continues his photoshoot, but Tim pushes the churning in his stomach to the back of his mind, a place that is explored late at night when Tim can’t sleep, as he points his lens at a bird. Tim takes a shot from below, fully capturing the birds large, red underbelly and just a bit of its tiny head and even tinier yellow beak. It’s not his best work, but, try as he might, he can’t get a better angle. _Sometimes_ , Tim thinks, _being short sucks_.

Just as Tim crouches down to photograph a wildflower, something rare on the lawns of the prestigious Gotham Academy, a couple cars arrive, and students start walking up the pavement, just as Jason had done only twenty-some minutes before.

Looking through the pictures he took as he walks into the building, Tim pauses on the one of Jason. It’s not his best picture, but it’s not his worst. This picture isn’t something he should keep, and Tim should delete it right this very second. He should delete it before someone can see it form over his shoulder, before _Jason_ can see it, but Tim can’t bring himself to do it. He has his finger hovering over the button that will delete this small piece of Jason Todd from his life, but someone bumps into his shoulder and knocks the camera out of his hand. Luckily the strap around his neck makes sure the camera doesn’t shatter, although it yanks Tim’s head forward with it, but even better, the pictures remains on his memory card.

Tim doesn’t take the time to dwell on the fact that a single, blurry picture feels more important than his camera.

 

* * *

 

This morning, Jason makes the decision to walk to school. He informs Alfred and Bruce the night before, and, predictably, they’re hesitant.

“Are you that’s a good idea Jason?” Bruce had asked, taking the time to set his phone down. Usually he wouldn’t be on his phone at dinner, per Alfred’s request, but last night there was some woman on the other end asking what kind of underwear he was wearing. At least, that’s what Jason thinks. “After everything that happened, I’m just not sure if it’s safe.”

“I have to say that I agree with Master Bruce. The horrid man that took you has not been caught yet, and your safety has to be the top priority,” Alfred had said, and the only thing that betrayed his fear was his slight stutter on the word ‘horrid’. If you ask Jason, that adjective isn’t strong enough. In fact, he would go for something a bit harsher like ‘scum of the Earth’ or ‘piece of shit who ruined my life’ or even ‘creepy ass fucking jester looking motherfucker who made damn sure that I’ll never sleep again’, but sure, ‘horrid’ works too.

“I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life in this place because I’m too scared of what might happen outside. If I can walk to school from Crime Alley, then I can walk to school from here.” Jason had talked a big game, his head held high as he stared right at Bruce, but deep down he was terrified. He was scared that the second he walked out of Alfred and Bruce’s sight that he’d be snatched out of thin air.

That fear persists as Jason puts one foot in front of the other on his way to school. Last night’s request was born out of Jason’s frustration; he was getting tired of being babied, of being scared, and of being just plain tired. He had told Alfred and Bruce that he wanted to talk to a teacher about him being behind, which isn’t a lie, but it’s not the truth either.

In truth, Jason just wants a semblance of normality.

Before being adopted by Bruce, Jason would wake up early and start heading to school as late as he could without being late; he used his hour of consciousness before school to make breakfast and just make sure his mother was breathing. After the millionth time of checking, Jason would head out of his shitty apartment and towards school.

Now, living in Wayne Manor, there is no Catherine Todd to check up on, and Jason only wakes up early because he can’t sleep. Today, in an effort to do something normal, even if it’s the opposite of _his_ norm, Jason heads to school early to catch up on work.

As his left foot touches the pavement leading up to the archway entrance of Gotham Academy, Jason hears a soft _click_. The noise itself is quiet, but in the silent morning, it cuts through the air like a knife. Immediately Jason’s heart gears into overdrive. He looks in every direction before his eyes catch on something obvious that he missed; straight in front him, hiding behind the flagpole, is a kid with his back turned to Jason. Jason can’t tell who it is until he’s walking past the kid, and as he passes, Jason takes a second to give the kid a slow once over.

He starts on the kids shoes, polished, just like his, then his khakis, press, just like his, then his blazer, stiff, like his, and finally, Jason looks at the kid’s face. As Jason’s eyes reach the kid’s, the other fixes his gaze somewhere else. This kid has pale skin, yes, but his eyes are bright blue, almost like ice, and his hair is jet black and gelled. As he walks into the building, Jason repeats these facts to himself until his heart stops hammering.

 

Later that day, in his business economics class, the teacher announces a partnerd project. It’s something about starting their own mini-business, and Jason is startled by the insinuation that this project will cost money. Jason doesn’t have money to spend on food, much less on a stupid project, but then he remembers that his partner will be rich and can probably foot the bill. After a minute of slight, premature, heated embarrassment, Jason remembers that he is Bruce Wayne’s ward and lives in a _fucking mansion_ ; a school project won’t break the bank.

Jason must have missed the teacher instructing everyone to find partners; once he tunes back into his surroundings, everyone is moving around. If this were Gotham High, Jason would pair up with one of his friends tell them that they better do their share or they’re getting their ass kicked, but this is Gotham Academy and Jason has no friends here. Maybe Roy Harper can count as a friend, but he’s not in this class so it doesn’t matter.

Once again, Jason must have zoned out because everybody is paired up and the kid from this morning is sitting in front him.

“I’m Tim Drake,” the kid says, sticking out his hand for Jason to shake, but Jason just stares at his hand until Tim lets it fall to his side. “Okay, he’s what I was thinking for the project…” Tim goes on and on until the teacher tells them the bell is about to ring. “Oh crap, sorry I talked the whole time, but if you aren’t interested in the project, I can-“

“You’re not doing all the work,” Jason cuts him off. “I’m not gonna be dead weight.”

“Oh, okay,” Tim says, obviously shocked. _Well fuck him_ , Jason thinks. “It’s just that most people make me do all the work in group projects.”

“I’m not gonna take a grade I didn’t earn.” This is something that Jason lives by; he doesn’t take handouts and works for what he needs. It’s the only way he’ll survive.

“Okay, cool, cool,” Tim says, and Jason is a bit weirded out by the fact that his exchange seems to make the kid happy. _Maybe he doesn’t have any friends either_. “Here, give me your number, so we can talk about the project and maybe set up a time to meet outside of school.” Tim slides a piece of paper his way, and Jason has to take a second to go into his settings and see his new number before he can right it down on the paper in front of him.

This is the first time Jason has given out his new number, and fears snakes its way into Jason’s gut as he pictures everything that can go wrong with giving a stranger his number. He takes a second to tell the fear to go fuck itself and then writes his name, just like he has a million times before, underneath his number.

“Jason Todd,” Tim reads to himself quietly, and he smiles to himself as he slides the paper into his blazer pocket. Jason feels like he’s missing something, but he can’t quite figure out what.


	4. Chapter 4

For the first time in a month, Jason had fallen asleep before three a.m., and the only reason he knew this was because he was looking at his phone at 2:45 a.m.. Before coming to Wayne Manor, Jason had his phone on silent while he slept. Usually his mom would be out, and she didn’t have his number anyway. Nobody else was worth talking to during times when he could sleep. Now, with no one who could possibly text him, Jason saw no harm in leaving his phone on full volume. At least, he didn’t until he was looking at his phone, glaring partly because he was pissed and partly because the brightness hurt his eyes.

**[Project Kid] - Are you up? I can’t sleep.**

The short message popped up under the title ‘Project Kid’, something Jason typed in hastily before the bell could rang. Putting Tim’s name felt too friendly and leaving it unsaved felt rude, especially if Jason did it right in front of him. Still, whether Jason needed to work with this kid in order to pass or not, he desperately wanted to sleep.

**[Me] – dont care. go cant sleep with someone else.**

Proper grammar, something Jason actually did appreciate, be damned; he really wanted to lay back down. After locking his phone, he placed it face down on his nightstand and faced the other way, scrunching his eyes closed and trying to find whatever sleep he had managed before.

This time, it was Jason’s fault, and he can admit that. He should’ve turned the ringer off or smashed the fucking thing, either was good with him.

**[Project Kid] – Did I wake you up? Sorry…**

After reading the message, Jason double checked that his ringer was off and repeated his earlier process. He laid in bed, staring at a wall that still wasn’t quite familiar, and tried not to think. Even before the last month, not thinking had ever been Jason’s strong suit. Yeah, he acted impulsively, but late at night, as he lay trying to sleep, Jason couldn’t shut his brain off. Before, it had been worries for his mother, but now that wasn’t an issue. After she had died, Jason had wondered if she went to heaven or hell or just rotted in the ground, but then Bruce was adopting him and that _fucker_ took him. After that, the state of his mother’s soul wasn’t as scary.

Now, as he lies awake, Jason think about pale hands, scarred and disgusting, wrapped around his arm. He thinks about duct tape sticking to his skin, his arms sweaty underneath as they’re pressed tightly to a highbacked, wooden chair. He thinks about smoke filling the room, heat and gray clouds rising until they’re inevitably filling his lungs. He thinks about not be able to breathe. He thinks about taking his last breath.

**[Me] – What do you want?**

Properly capitalized and punctuated, Jason sends the text and doesn’t bother to lay back down; he has officially given up on sleep. Instead of playing on his phone, Jason stares at the chat log until a reply appears.

**[Project Kid] – Like I said, I can’t sleep. Are you having the same problem?**

Maybe Tim has problems sleeping, but Jason doubts that they’re birds of a feather.

**[Me] – I wasn’t until your text woke me up.**

It’s partly a lie, Jason knows. Even if Tim hadn’t texted him, Jason would’ve woken up in the middle of the night with a nightmare and been unable to go back to sleep. A good night’s rest comes few and far between these days, or at least Jason is sure it will if he can ever manage to have one.

**[Project Kid] – Well, you could’ve gone back to sleep, but you haven’t yet. Wanna talk?**

Jason hasn’t gone back to sleep yet, Tim is right, but he won’t be able to even if he tries. _Well, since he woke me up, he can deal with it,_ Jason thinks as he types out his message.

**[Me] – What is there to talk about?**

If Tim wants to be all ‘buddy buddy’, Jason doesn’t plan on making it easy for him.

**[Project Kid] – We can talk about the project if you want, but that’s pretty boring. How do you like GA?**

**[Me] – The project‘s gonna be boring as hell no matter when we talk about it. GA is better than Gotham High on paper, but all of the kids here are annoying assholes.**

**[Project Kid] – I don’t think Roy Harper would be happy to hear that.**

This text is all the confirmation that Jason needs to show that Tim has been watching him, and Jason is fully ready to call him out on it.

**[Project Kid] – But I haven’t been like stalking you or anything.**

**[Me] – Sure you haven’t. Why did you take a picture of me then?**

**[Project Kid] – I’ll delete it if you want me to…**

**[Me] – Of course I want you to.**

**[Project Kid] – It’s just that it’s a really good picture. It’s not that _you_ look good in it; it’s just a really good picture.**

Tim is flustered, that much is obvious, and Jason has a pretty good idea as to why. This is the first time that a guy has ever had a crush on him, at least to his knowledge, and Jason’s not sure how to play it. Does he play it cool and act like he doesn’t notice? Does he say ‘no homo’? _Except that would be a lie_.

Briefly, Jason panics at the thought that Tim knows, that all of the kids at Gotham Academy know that he’s even more different than they originally thought, but then he focuses on how irrational that is. No one on this earth other than himself can say, for sure, that Jason is bi. He hasn’t told anyone, and he doesn’t think he ever will. It’s not like he had some big coming out revelation to tell people; he’s just always known.

In the end, Jason plays it cool. He keeps texting Tim until it’s almost sunrise, and finally, at almost six in the morning, he changes the name in his phone. Not even two minutes late, just as the sun starts to rise, Jason gets a text.

**[Tim] – Good morning!**

**[Me] – It’s been morning ever since you woke me up.**

**[Tim] – Are you ever going to let that go?**

**[Me] – No. You still owe me.**


	5. Chapter 5

              As soon as Jason sets his tray down across from Roy’s, he can tell something is off. Roy sits there, phone next to his clasped hands, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Jason can clearly see his teeth, straight and with the tell-tale white squares of a smoker who had braces, and the smugness in his expression is blinding.

              “What?” Jason asks, trying his damnedest to figure out what Roy could be so happy about. He knows Roy has been talking to some girl named Kori, but she’s been playing hard to get. At least, that’s what he says, and much to Jason’s dismay, Roy doesn’t skimp on the details.

              “Your boyfriend asked to sit with us today.” It’s a simple statement, but Jason is immediately on edge. Logically, he knows he doesn’t have a boyfriend, but illogically, he wonders if there’s a brand on him, something somewhere that outs him. “Okay, he might not be your boyfriend yet, but that kid is into you. Like hardcore.” Jason tries not to let his sigh of relief be audible, but it doesn’t matter anyway as he processes what Roy said.

              “Who?” he asks, but Jason already has a pretty clear idea who they’re talking about. Sure enough, before Roy can even answer, Tim is walking up to their table. He slides onto the seat that’s adjacent to Roy, which strikes Jason as odd. What’s even weirder is the way Tim’s eyes go down to Roy’s wrist where his sleeve is sliding down, revealing a dark tribal tattoo wrapped around his wrist, and immediately his cheeks turn red. Judging by Roy’s smirk and the way he runs his hand through his hair as he lets his sleeve fall even farther back, he followed Tim’s gaze as well.

              “So kid, you got a name to go with that pretty face?” Roy asks, leaning close to Tim. Roy, although not Jason’s type, is attractive, and Tim seems to realize this too. As he waits for Tim to answer, Roy slowly leans in closer, and they’re only four inches apart by the time Tim speaks up.

              “Timothy Drake.” As flustered as Tim looks, he doesn’t stutter over his words, and Jason figures the kid must have years of practice.

              “Nice to meet ya Timmy,” Roy says, and that seems to put Tim off.

              “Right, uh Jason, so let’s talk about the project.”

              Jason, not that Tim cares to ask, doesn’t want to talk about the project during his 45 minute break. That, Jason thinks, is his favorite part about Gotham Academy; at GHS lunch was 25 minutes and always had at least one fight break out. At the end of his three years, Jason had been in about 15 fights. Guys his age, without fail, like to pick fights with Jason. One girl told him it was because he had ‘resting bitch face’, but Jason thinks it’s because he’s pretty big and people just want to prove their dominance.

              “Sounds like a fun topic, seriously, and I’ll let you talk about it. But before I forget, Kori is throwing a party this weekend, and she said I could invite whoever.” Even though Jason doesn’t know much about girls, it’s plainly obvious to him that this Kori girl is into Roy. Roy, who up until now had been looking at Tim, turns to Jason, and Jason figures that now is probably a good time to give an answer.

              Even before everything that happened, Jason wasn’t much of a party guy. Jason was fine with Nicotine, some might even say he’s addicted, but alcohol and drugs weren’t very appealing. They have a way of changing people, and Jason isn’t very good with change.

              “The invites extended to you too Timmy, so don’t make any plans for this weekend,” Roy says, and even to Jason he looks charming. _Cocky bastard_.

              “I’ve never been to a party before,” Tim admits, and he looks scared, like he thinks Jason and Roy will make fun of him.

              “They’re not that fun,” Jason says, biting into his pizza. That’s another thing that’s better about GA: the food. Back at GHS, Jason ate just to survive, but here he can actually enjoy the food for its taste rather than sustenance. “Just a bunch of assholes getting drunk and high and fucking each other.”

              “It’s not that bad Jay, for real. Kori isn’t even into drugs or anything like that.” Roy, apparently, is into giving nicknames, and Jason doesn’t know how to feel about that. So long as it’s not _robin_. “Please Jason! Kori’s super hot and I need her to know I’m not a friendless loser.”

              “If Bruce says yes-“ and before Jason can even finish the sentence, Roy has his arms around him and is thanking him.

             

* * *

 

              To be completely honest, Jason was using Bruce as a cop out, and go fucking figure this would be the one time Bruce wouldn’t pull through. _Well, not the first._ Jason had asked that same night, very ready to be turned down, but once he had told Bruce that he had made a friend, Bruce was more than accepting of his request.

              That night after dinner Jason texted Roy to tell him he was allowed to go, and within seconds Roy was replying and asking for Tim’s number. Jason texted the information over, albeit hesitantly, and was relieved when Roy sent out a group chat; at least this way Jason could stop Roy from saying something too stupid. Roy asked Tim for his address, said he’d be getting them both on Friday night, and that was the end of the chat.

 

* * *

 

              Walking into Kori’s house was the first time Jason had been in a situation with loud noises in over a month, and he wasn’t handling it well. His palms were sweaty and his fingers shaky. The strobe lights were fucking with his vision and the thumping base was disorienting, and to make things worse, Roy had ditched him and Tim within seconds. Kori had come over and introduced herself as a gracious host, and Jason understood immediately what Roy saw in her.

Kori was a force to be reckoned with and the most attractive woman Jason had ever seen in his life. Her eyes were bright green and fierce, and her long, dark legs looked like they would crush a human skull. Maybe Jason had a type.

Except maybe he didn’t because Tim had been standing right next to him, and Jason could barely focus on what Kori had been saying. Tim had shown up to a high school party in a button down and khakis, his dark hair slicked forward instead of back. He looked like such a nerd and Jason was _kind of_ into it. Only a little bit. Barely anything at all.

However, it didn’t matter that Kori was hot or Tim was adorable because everything was _too loud_. Jason had dealt with his fair share of noise over the years, but now even someone tapping their finger against their cup was setting him on edge. Through a sliding glass door Jason could see into the backyard where a smoke machine was set up, and immediately he felt his lungs constrict.

Leaving Tim behind, Jason hurried through the house, pushing past teenager after teenager, until he found a bathroom. Even after closing the door and shoving a rolled up towel into the crack underneath, the noise was still seeping into the small room.

Jason took a second to splash water into his face, eager to calm his nerves. When he looked into his reflection, he was irked to see his pupils dilated and his eyes crazed. Tonight was a mistake and he shouldn’t have come. He knew he shouldn’t’ve from the beginning, but Roy had looked so pathetic and Tim seemed like he actually wanted to go.

Tim!

Jason was actually the worst. He had taken a fucking kid to a party and left him alone to the wolves. He was a piece of shit who shouldn’t be allowed to have friends, shouldn’t have been saved, shouldn’t have been given a second chance at life.

“Jason!” Somehow Tim’s voice, high-pitched and nervous, had carried over the music, and now Jason was making a beeline towards him like it was his fucking life’s mission. When he got over there, a guy about his age had his arms over Tim. Tim who was in his lap. Tim who looked like he didn’t _want_ to be in his lap.

“Aw, is this your boyfriend Timmy?” The guy asked, and the nickname just pissed Jason off even more. When Roy said it, it sounded friendly, but when this fucker said it, it sounded creepy.

“H-he’s not my boyfriend, but he’s my ride home so…” Even in a situation like this Tim was being polite, trying to spare this creep’s feelings as he tried to get up.

“Don’t be like that; I can give you a ride home later,” the guy said, looping his arm around Tim’s front and keeping him securely in place.

“Get your hands off him asshole,” Jason said, and maybe he was yelling because the music was too loud, or maybe he was angry, or maybe that horrible urge to fight was finding its way back into his system.

“Chill dude, I’ll let your boy go.” Without even so much as an eyeroll, the guy let Tim up. _If it were that easy to begin with, why didn’t you do it when Tim asked, asshole?_ “Might wanna get him past his parents before that shit kicks in though.”

Of course just as they were turning to leave that asshole had to speak up. “What the fuck did you say?” Jason asked, whipping back around in the blink of an eye.

“Kid ate two of those brownies, and they’re potent as _fuck_ ,” the guy said, laughing a bit like this was all some joke.

“You fucking gave him edibles?!” Jason yelled, his fist already drawn back. He was going to kill this guy, going to murder this fucker who thought it was okay to get unsuspecting kids high.

“Jason don’t!” That had to be Tim who was grabbing on to his arm like that because no one else would be stupid enough to try something like that. “Please, I want to go home!”

“Let’s go,” Jason huffs, feeling some of his anger seep out with the contact.

 

* * *

 

By some fucking miracle, everything goes fine. Jason calls Alfred and asks him to get them, and Tim tells him that he had already told his parents that he would be staying at a friends house. They wait together at the school park down the street until Alfred shows up, and Tim stays silent up until the moment they walk into Jason’s room.

“Jason, I think I’m dying,” Tim says as soon as Jason closes his door.

Honestly, Jason’s surprised it took Tim this long. “You’re not gonna die Tim.”

“No but I really think I will. My hearts beating fast and I can barely stand and I’m talking really loud and I don’t wanna die a virgin and I haven’t even had my first kiss yet!” With every add-on, Tim speaks faster and faster until he’s full on sobbing. “I don’t wanna die Jason!”

Awkwardly, very, very awkwardly, Jason sits down on his bed next to Tim and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “You’re not gonna die Tim; you’re just high as a fucking kite.” Looking into Tim’s blue eyes, the pupils blown so wide that the iris is hardly visible, Jason can feel himself getting pissed again. He never should’ve let Tim out of his sight.

“You’re so warm Jay,” Tim sighs, nuzzling his face into the crook of Jason’s neck, and Jason can most certainly feel his face heating up.

“C’mon Tim, let’s get you into some pajamas,” Jason says as gently pushes Tim away and walks to his dresser. He pulls out one of his old ratty shirts and tosses it into Tim’s lap. He turns away to give Tim a since of privacy. When Tim announces “done!” and Jason turns around, he almost chokes on his own spit. That shirt on Jason is a little baggy, but on Tim it hangs past the ends of his boxers. Or it would if _Tim were wearing any_.

“What the fuck Tim?!” Jason exclaims, his voice going a little higher than he would’ve liked.

“What? You can’t _see anything_. I saw you looking at Kori’s legs; do you like mine?” Tim asks, gesturing to his skinny, pale legs that could most certainly not crush a human skull, but yeah, Jason still likes them. Except that’s not something he should be thinking about right now. Nor should he thinking about how cute Tim looks when he’s jealous. He shouldn’t be thinking anything of these things because Tim is as high as a fucking kite and need to be protected.

“Put your boxers on, Tim,” Jason sighs, putting his hand over his eyes to emphasis his point. He can hear Tim huffing and puffing and the sliding of fabric on skin and finally another huff, but he keeps his hand over his eyes until Tim announces once again that he’s done albeit more annoyed this time. “Alright Timmy, time to go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep silly; I’m an insomniac,” Tim says, shaking his head and wagging his finger.

“Then just lie down,” Jason says, exasperated.

It take a little more arguing since Tim wants them to sleep together and Jason refuses, but eventually Jason gets Tim tucked in, turns the light off, and sits down in his desk chair. Despite his protests, Tim manages to only speak nonsense for another hour and a half before he’s out like a light.

For the first time in a month, Jason willingly forgoes sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Tim sleeps longer than Jason can ever hope to sleep again, and by the time he starts to stir, it’s already eight in the morning. He wakes up painstakingly slow, and Jason is ready to just nudge Tim with his foot and slightly more force than necessary. But then Tim opens his eyes, just a crack, and the whites of his eyes are bloodshot straight to hell and the pupils are still slightly dilated. Tim turns his head to Jason, eyes still almost closed as his mouth hangs open, tongue moving sluggishly around in an effort to stop being so dry.

Watching the scene in front of him unfold, Jason recalls the bastard from the other night saying ate two brownies. _Fuck._

“Jason?” Tim asks, words slightly slurred. “Why’m I with you?” The words are coming out slowed, with Tim visibly struggling to string his thoughts together. “Did we have a sleep over? I’ve never had one of those before,” Tim says, and he has this dopey ass smile on his face. He looks so happy which makes Jason more at ease, but he also looks high as shit which just pisses Jason off.

“We didn’t have a sleepover because _I_ didn’t go to sleep; had to watch and make sure you didn’t suffocate yourself in the middle of the night,” Jason says, and maybe he sounds a bit more annoyed than he should, but this whole situation gets his blood boiling. _God, what’re Bruce and Alfred going to think? I have a drugged up guy in my bed and –_

“You’re not leaving this fucking room until you come down,” he orders, and Tim, put together, little business man Tim, sticks his fucking tongue out.

“You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not that much older, but you’re taller, and bigger, and stronger, and _hotter_.” Tim goes on, listing more adjectives that ruffle Jason’s feathers and light his face up like a Christmas tree. He knows Tim has a crush on him; last night made that kind of obvious, but having to _hear about it_ is just plain weird.

“Alright, alright, enough of that. What time do you have to be home?” _Hopefully_ , Jason thinks, _not soon_. Something, maybe just a gut feeling, is telling him that bringing the Drake heir home while he’s even a little bit high won’t really go down well for all parties involved.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tim huffs, and Jason can actually watch him come down, even if it’s just a bit. “They’ve probably already left for Chile or Argentina or some other country that I’m not in.” It’s a depressing story, yeah, but Jason has heard worse, has _lived_ worse.

“I know, I know what they say about you at school, the stuff they ‘bout your parents, and if even half of it’s true, your like probably sucked. And I’m sorry, really, but have you ever read _The Outsiders_? ‘Things are rough all over,’ Jason.” It’s the most coherent sounding Tim has sounded in the past ten hours, but Jason is slightly pissed off that Tim knew exactly what he was thinking. _What the fuck does he know?_ However, the moment is ruined immediately after when Tim starts laughing his ass off. “Haha, _The Outsiders!_ Oh my god you’re Ponyboy! So does that make me Cherry?”

“They don’t get together in the end, Tim,” Jason says, and he’s not sure why he even says it. The implication is obvious, but he doesn’t think it’s true and he doesn’t think it’s false. Jason just honestly down know.

“Oh. You’re right. That’s…my bad. I….think I’m gonna go back to sleep, Jay. Just, uh, stay gold.” Tim gives a soft, sad laugh and turns to face away from Jason before trying to go back to sleep. Jason chooses not to mention the fact that he’s an insomniac and probably won’t go back to sleep, so instead he just walks out of his room, closing the door gently behind him as he heads to get breakfast.

It’s not a far walk from his room to the kitchen, something Jason is grateful for because he’s a growing boy and is actually getting used to not needing to feel hunger.

“Jason,” Bruce greets as soon as he walks into the kitchen. He’s got his phone in hand again, and whatever girls is on the other end of that conversation must be a real keeper because as far as Jason knows he didn’t go out last night.

“So how was your party last night?” Bruce asks as he sets his phone down. _At least I’m more important than a booty call_. It’s a quick thought, bitter for no reason, but Jason immediately feels bad for it nonetheless. Bruce and Alfred have been nothing but kind and accepting, and maybe all of this fear and anxiety is just Jason waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he’s just waiting for Bruce to show his true colors after this post-traumatic coddling period is over.

“Left early. Thanks Alfred,” Jason says, wasting no time before digging in to the mini feast in front of him. The food is probably his favorite part; he gets three square meals a day at Wayne Manor and doesn’t have to worry about feeding anybody else that he sees. That stuff used to keep Jason up at night; he’d remember all of the little kids he left behind in crime alley and how nobody was there to care for them when their parents went on a bender.

“Does you leaving early have anything to do with you bring Timothy Drake home high and then keeping him in your room through breakfast?” Bruce asks this as casually as one would the weather, and Jason is entirely thrown off. Is he in trouble? He technically didn’t do anything wrong. _You left Tim to fend for himself in a house full of dumbass teenagers, you deserve to be in trouble._ “Bring your breakfast up to your room, and make sure you bring a plate up for Timothy.”

“He likes to be called Tim. Thanks Alfred.” Jason takes the proffered plate from Alfred, and takes a second to try and figure out the alternate universe he lives in. He came home with a drugged up rich kid that’s upset with him for thinking that Jason turned him down, and Bruce is forcing him to go back upstairs instead of being yelled at. _What the_ fuck. Why can’t Bruce just react the way Jason thinks he will; all of this unpredictability is keeping him on edge.

An overloaded plate in each hand, Jason heads to his room slightly slower than necessary, and if anyone asks, he’ll just say he doesn’t want to drop the plates. When he finally gets to his room, he kicks the door with just enough forced to be heard but not jostle his arms and send the plates flying.

“Open up Tim; I know you’re awake. My hands are full, so I can’t open the door.” Standing outside of his own room with Tim sulking on the other side of the door, Jason kind of feels like an asshole, but he’s trying to remember that it’s not his fault that Tim took his statement the way that he did. Besides, it’s for the best; Jason can’t even sleep for more than two hours without waking up gasping for his breath as he inhales phantom smoke and hears laughter that isn’t there.

He’s just one big mess, and Tim doesn’t deserve to get roped into that.


End file.
